Jotun Snowflakes
by I'vebeenLOKI'Dyetagain
Summary: An innocent trip to the snow turns suddenly, horribly wrong. (AU where Loki discovers his Frost Giant heritage as a teen. Not-douche!Jotuns.)
1. Chapter 1

**So! This was that story I mentioned both in the author's notes of my story _Loki's Pranks _and of_ The Avengers: Lokitty Edition_. It's just taken me a while to get going... I've actually had this part written for a while, but was refraining from posting it in hopes that I could finish the story first. I scratched that idea though, because I found that posting helps motivate me to write XD**

**In this fic Loki and Thor are teenagers, probably the equivalent of 14 and 16. **

**Also, for the purposes of this story, I'm using the geography from the myths, where Midgard and Jotunheim are adjacent on Yggdrasil, separated by a mountain range that are Ymir's eyebrows, rather than the movie geography where they're all separate planets. **

**I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

It was summertime in Asgard.

The air was thick, sticky, stiflingly hot and humid, so that not even the darkest shadows offered mitigation. The sun was already high up in the sky, beating down on the golden realm.

And it truly was golden; not just the gold stones of the castle, but the dry grass in the fields, the gleam on the edge of everything that was remotely capable of reflecting light.

Getting up from where he had been languidly sprawled out under a tree after sword training, Thor stood up and stretched, heading inside, wearing naught but blue trousers that stopped at his knees, the same blue as his eyes and the summer sky, as well as a black belt around his hips.

He'd long ago taken off his shirt to try to deal with the heat, and his tan, muscular form glistened with sweat.

He was wandering towards the Library to look for his brother, when he spotted Loki walking down the hallway, heading deeper into the castle and carrying a book under one arm.

"Brother!" Thor exclaimed, bounding up to walk beside him. "Where are you going?"

"To the dungeons," Loki answered fluidly.

Thor stopped walking, his brow wrinkled in confusion. "The dungeons?!"

"Yes, the dungeons. It's colder down there, and I might finally be able to escape this distasteful heat," Loki said as he continued walking.

"You wouldn't be so overheated if you took your shirt off," Thor pointed out, catching up and plucking at his little brother's short-sleeved tunic.

Loki rolled his green eyes.

"Come on brother, come outside with me! You look like you haven't seen sunlight for decades at least," Thor said, grabbing Loki's pale arm and trying to pull him in the other direction.

"I was _just _outside," Loki lied, twisting his arm from Thor's grip. "And it was much too warm for my liking. So unless you plan on going to the snow, I'm staying inside."

Thor's blue eyes lit up. "That's a great idea! We should go to the snow!"

"And where do you plan to find any snow, exactly?" Loki asked practically, "All the snow on the mountains between Asgard and Valhalla has melted. We certainly won't be able to find any snow in this realm."

"Well... we could ask Heimdall to send us to Midgard! I'm sure it's winter there somewhere!" Thor proclaimed.

Loki licked his dry lips in thought.

"Come on, brother," Thor wheedled, nudging Loki in the shoulder. "I'm sure it'll be colder than the dungeons, and it'll be more exciting! We haven't been down to Midgard in years!"

"Oh alright," Loki consented.

Thor beamed, clapping his brother on the neck and turning to leave.

"But Thor?"

Thor looked back at Loki, who's lips were quirking into a smirk. "Yes?"

"You're going to want to put a shirt on."

* * *

"You're not dressed warmly enough," Heimdall intoned, as Loki and Thor dismounted their horses and came to the end of the bifrost. Thor walked down the bridge barefoot, now wearing a dark sleeveless shirt and a red vest, and had switched into long pants of a slightly darker blue than the cutoffs he'd been wearing earlier.

Loki was still wearing his green tunic and tight black pants, but had pulled on some large knee-high snow boots that made his legs look even longer and skinnier than usual.

"I'm dying of heat as it is!" Thor complained.

"I brought some layers, though," Loki pointed out to the gatekeeper, dumping a large pile of stuff he'd been carrying on the vacillating rainbow bridge. There was also a clatter of metal.

Heimdall eyed the two heavy fur cloaks, a fluffy pair of boots for Thor, and an awkwardly large shield.

"That enough clothing for you?" Loki asked coolly.

"What is the shield for?" Heimdall said suspiciously, "You're not planning on looking for any more dangerous beasts and almost getting yourselves killed again, are you?"

Loki snorted. "Of course not! The shield is for snow sledding."

"Is that..." Thor said, peering closer at the golden shield. "Is that father's shield?"

"Mayyyyybeeeeee," Loki drawled, his eyes glittering mischievously.

"How in Asgard did you get a hold of it?!" Thor asked in disbelief.

"He snuck past the guards in the royal armory and caused a distraction by making the shadows flicker in the corners of the guards' vision, and made off with the Allfather's shield while they were looking the other direction," Heimdall answered, not shifting his stance from where he was blocking their access to the bifrost, has hands folded atop the hilt of his golden sword.

"_Loki," _Thor groaned, though he couldn't hide his slight grin.

Loki just shrugged, his expression one of careless audacity. "It was easy. Besides, we'll have it back before they ever realize it was gone."

Thor shook his head fondly at his little brother's antics. The royal armory was heavily guarded; stealing—or in this case, _borrowing—_something from there was no easy task (albeit one the younger prince accomplished on whim.)

"So Heimdall," Thor said, turning back to the gatekeeper. "May we pass?"

Heimdall regarded them for a long moment with his intense amber eyes, and just when the princes thought he might deny them access to Midgard, he turned and walked into the bifrost dome.

Thor and Loki came in after him, each with their cloaks slung over their shoulders. Thor also carried his boots in one hand, and Odin's shield in the other.

"Try not to get yourselves into any exceptionally pernicious predicaments," Heimdall stated, as he slid his sword into place.

"You have so much faith in us!" Loki said sarcastically, placing a hand over his heart, his expression suggesting that he was somehow truly flattered.

Heimdall just shook his head slightly, and in the next moment Loki and Thor were yanked into the bifrost beam and shot into the galaxy.

* * *

The change in atmosphere was shocking and immediate. Snow-covered trees peppered the frozen landscape, mountains jutted up in the distance, and snowflakes filtered down lightly from the seemingly cloudless sky, which was the shade of plumbagos, in contrast to the cornflower skies of Asgard.

The two young gods were deposited roughly in a snowbank, where Loki immediately proceeded to make a snow angel, laughing at the exhilarating chill against his skin.

"ODIN'S FAVORITE PAIR OF BOOTS, IT'S COLD!" Thor yelped, springing to his feet and rubbing his arms, already shivering as he jumped up and down.

"Speaking of boots," Loki said, taking Thor's fur-lined shoes from where he'd dropped them, and chucking them at his face so he was forced to catch them. "Why don't you put yours on?"

Thor pulled the shoes on, which reached up to his knees, then walked over and grabbed his thick brown cloak as well, promptly clasping it on.

"Come on, lets start moving," Loki said, rolling onto his stomach in the snow before pushing himself lightly to his feet. He bent down and picked up his own cloak, swinging the black fur over his shoulders.

"I d-didn't realize it would b-be this c-cold," Thor stuttered.

Loki glanced back at his brother, a small smile stretching its way across his lips. "It's the snow, Thor, of course it's going to be cold. I rather think it's much nicer than the insufferable summer heat of Asgard, myself."

Thor glared at him hotly.

Loki swiftly kicked Thor's feet out from under him, before grabbing the shield and dashing off across the endless expanse of white, his black cloak flowing out behind him.

"LOKI!" Thor shouted in annoyance, getting up and chasing after his brother.

Loki kept running till he could hear Thor's labored breathing as the older boy slogged through the snow behind him, and he was sure Thor had warmed himself up sufficiently. Pausing under a large evergreen tree, Loki waited for his brother to catch up.

Instead of pulling to a stop Thor charged his brother to tackle him, but Loki easily stepped aside, causing Thor to slam into the trunk of the tree.

Thor looked up angrily, opening his mouth to yell at Loki indignantly, but upon seeing his little brother, burst out laughing.

"I fail to see how this is funny," Loki monotoned. He was standing defiantly with his arms cross, completely drenched in a pile of snow that had fallen of the limbs of the tree when Thor had rammed into it. He was stuck in the frozen water up to his waist, and snowflakes clung heavily to his body, frosting even his eyelashes in sparkles of white.

"Liar," Thor teased, when Loki broke out grinning.

Climbing out of the large pile of snow, Loki surreptitiously took a handful, and as he turned back to Thor threw the snowball in his face.

"Not fair," Thor spluttered, wiping the snow from his face.

When Thor started pegging snowballs at Loki, he was ready for Thor's attack.

"Eheheheh," Loki giggled from behind the Allfather's shield, as the snowballs bounced off, sending soft resonating clangs through the metal.

He poked his head around the side. "What say you we find a mountain to sled down," Loki suggested, before ducking back behind the shield as Thor aimed threw a snowball right where his head had been only a millisecond before.

"Not yet!" Thor protested, "I haven't even hit you once!"

"Fine," Loki said, dropping the shield to the ground and placing a foot on it. "Have at me!"

Thor frowned. "I can't hit you now. It would be too easy."

"Unlikely," Loki smirked tauntingly, his face crafted into the supercilious expression that he knew always got under his brother's skin; lips pressed tightly together and pulling up slightly on the left, chin tilted slightly down, green eyes glinting.

When the snowball came hurtling towards him, so fast no mortal would have even been able to _see_ it, Loki's hand shot up and caught it, inches from his finely-carved nose.

He shot a look at Thor. _That's the best you can do? _

Thor glowered at him.

"Well," Loki concluded, letting the expression of mockery slip off his face to be replaced with a lighthearted smile. "Now that you've hit the palm of my hand, we can go snow sledding!"

* * *

"Loki!"

Loki looked back at his brother, who had stepped up to his waist in the snowfield. _Again._

Sighing, Loki walked back to his brother, grabbing Thor's hand and yanking him out of the thick snow, one of his boots getting pulled off in the process. Loki reached down into the hole and pulled out Thor's boot, handing it to him.

Thor dumped out the snow from inside it, then pulled it back on, inquiring "How do you _do _that?!"

"Do what?" Loki asked, confused.

"Walk on top of the snow like that! You hardly leave any footprints, while I fall past my knees every-other-other step!" Thor exclaimed.

Loki shrugged. "I _am_ lighter than you," he pointed out.

"I don't know how we're going to make it up to the top," Thor grumbled, casting an annoyed glance at large mountain they'd just barely started climbing.

"Well," Loki said thoughtfully,"I could always teleport us up there..."

"Why didn't you suggest that earlier?!"

Loki looked over at his exasperated brother. "Because you might have insisted on conquering the rock with your own two feet, had you not been sufficiently tired of such a needless venture. You seemed quite adamant about hiking."

"Hiking?" Thor blanched, "Well when you put it like that!"

"Just give the word," Loki said, idly examining his fingernails.

"Please teleport us up the mountain, brother?" Thor asked, putting almost-not-purposeful emphasis on the 'please.' Loki had scolded Thor about using his manners so many times that his voice was practically ingrained in the back of Thor's head, constantly remind him to be polite.

"Well, if you insist," Loki grinned, grabbing Thor's warm hand in his own cold one, and pulling them into the ether.

* * *

They reappeared at the top of the mountain in close to the same instant. Thor stumbled, dizzy, leaning against Loki to keep from falling over.

After a few moments he straightened, joining his brother in looking at their surroundings.

In either direction it was an impressive view, and they could see about for miles.

The side they'd been trekking up sloped down gradually, dark rocks protruding from the white snow randomly, and a few thousand feet down trees began spotting the slope, before thickening into a forest. They could track their path from the bottom of the mountain all the way to the distant runed circle that marked the bifrost site. The sky was clear, and the sunlight glinted brightly on the white snow.

The opposite side was significantly steeper, almost dangerously so, and though there were ridges (perfect ramps!) there seemed to be more ice and less rock. There were no trees to be seen, and the area seemed somehow darker, the snow almost blue. The horizon was hazy and it was hard for them to make out details of landscape, though they thought they could see more mountains in the distance.

"That way looks more fun," Thor said, pointing down the latter side.

Loki nodded in agreement.

Setting Odin's shield down, Thor sat down, crossing his legs, and placing his hands on either side, holding it steady while Loki stepped on and sat down on Thor's lap.

Loki braced his feet against the edge of the shield and gripped the handles, and Thor pushed them off over the edge, wrapping his arms around Loki's midriff as they started racing down the mountain.

They whooped, invigorated, as the air whipped past them, the icy landscape passing by in a blue-white blur.

Suddenly the ground swooped upwards slightly, and they were sent airborne.

It was, Loki thought, as his laughter was ripped from his throat by the wind, something akin to flying.

"RAAAAAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!" Thor yelled, practicing his battle cry.

After several long, glorious seconds, the ground came rushing upwards to meet them, and they landed hard against the ice, bouncing up again, before continuing sliding down the mountain.

The awkward impact caused the shield to begin spinning, and both young gods shrieked, unable to tell where they were going.

And it just so happened that they were facing backwards when they crashed, both of them being thrown off the shield.

Thor landed face-first in the snow, and lay there dizzily for a moment before pushing himself up to his knees, wiping the frozen water from his face.

Loki rolled along the snow before catching himself in a lunge and flipping his hair as he looked up.

The smile melted off his face when he saw what they'd crashed into, to be replaced by horrified alarm.

In less than a second he had sprinted to his brother's side and put a hand on his shoulder. "Thor..." he breathed.

"What is it?" Thor asked, turning to follow Loki's anxious gaze and freezing.

What they had crashed into turned out to be large sleigh pulled by two giant polar bears. Three Jotuns leapt out of the sleigh, their red eyes burning like embers against their dark teal skin. They stalked toward the two boys. Each one was easily over twice the height of the Allfather, their bare chests, legs and arms heavily muscled. Their only clothes were dark kilts made of some leathery-looking material.

Thor quickly stood up, stepping protectively in front of his little brother. His hand gripped instinctively for his sword, and he glanced down when he grasped nothing, the dread dawning on his face as he realized that had no weapon with which to defend them.

"And what," one of the Jotuns hissed threateningly, "Are two young Asgardians doing in Jotunheim?"

Loki widened his eyes, realizing what they'd done. He hadn't realized they'd been so close to the edge of Midgard... he hadn't thought Heimdall would set them down so _close_...

"We are Odinsons! We mean you no harm; it was by mistake that we ended up here!" Thor declared, trying to cover up his growing panic.

The Jotuns exchanged glances.

Loki pressed closer to Thor, not liking what he read in their dark, scarred faces.

"In that case," one of the Jotuns growled, "How would the _Princes of Asgard _enjoy a little visit with King Laufey?" He spat out their title like it tasted foul in his mouth.

"As pleasant as that sounds, I'm afraid we must politely decline your most gracious offer," Loki spoke up, stepping up next to his older brother. "As we must be getting back."

He put a hand on Thor's shoulder.

"Your teleportation won't work here, magician," the Jotun said with a malicious smile.

Loki cocked his head to the side, carefully keeping down his panic as he discovered that the Jotun was right; shifting his gaze to include the ether, he found that the magic that was heavy in the air was roiling and chaotic, such that he could not travel through it without risking being asphyxiated by the unfamiliar power he had no preceding knowledge of how to control. Given enough time he was sure he could figure it out, but time did not seem to be something they had in excess. And he wasn't sure how the natural magic of Jotunheim would react to his own.

"In fact," the Jotun continued, as his two fellows moved to circle and surround the two princes, "We aren't giving you a choice."

Loki moved so that he covered Thor's back, preparing for the scuffle he knew was coming. He knew they didn't stand a chance against the Jotuns, but they sure weren't going to simply _let_ themselves be taken into the heart of Jotunheim.

At twitch of his wrists, and couple throwing knives slipped surreptitiously into his hands.

Thor braced himself, ready to dive for the Allfather's shield, which was only a few feet away.

The Jotuns closed in.

* * *

**TBC**

**Please let me know what you think?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Oh, oh wow. I cannot say just how incredible that was checking my email today and seeing all the faves, alerts and reviews *-* I was blown away, truly. I LOVE YOU!**

**And I'd like to apologize for being unable to reply to anything, but I was out of town at an event all weekend (without my computer), and I only just got home late today - and I'm actually leaving to a summer camp tomorrow morning, and I won't be back for an entire week; so I won't be able to update or reply until then. **

**But... you can have another chapter now! :3**

* * *

The fight had lasted only about thirty seconds. In that time, Thor had managed to crack the Allfather's shield across a Jotun's jaw, and Loki had thrown a dagger and impaled one of the giants in the side, before they'd been knocked out with forceful blows to their heads.

After a sleigh ride through Jotunheim during which the two princes had been mostly unconscious, being dragged through frozen halls filled with colossal blue stalagmites and stalactites, Thor and Loki were finally dumped unceremoniously in front of an icy throne, the warped backrest forming into three swirling prongs.

Forced to their knees, they glared up at the Jotun lounging there, a cruel smirk pulling its way across the giant's shadowed face.

Jotunheim had been plunged into twilight, such that even the young Asgardians were cast in a cobalt hue, a strangely ethereal light reflecting off the glacial walls and the eyes of the monster in front of them.

"Welcome to Jotunheim, _Asgardians,_" The Jotun said coldly, the deep growl of his voice resonating through the chamber as he got to his feet, towering above the boys. "Let me introduce myself; I am Laufey, King of Jotunheim."

"We're honored by the hospitality, your Majesty" Loki said smoothly.

Laufey's smile grew, but it was not a pleasant expression.

If their hands hadn't been tied behind their backs, Loki would have elbowed his brother, whispering in Thor's ear to stay quiet and let him speak. As it was, he could just try to take deep breaths and hope that his brother didn't say anything too offensive or do anything rash.

But apparently that was too much to hope for.

"Let us go, you vile creature!" Thor snapped, furious. "When our father finds out that you're holding us captive, you can be sure—"

"Oh yes," Laufey snarled, his smirk corrupting into a sneer, "Odin Allfather, that _murderer _and _thief—_"

"Do not dishonor my father's name with your lies!" Thor shouted angrily, making to get to his feet.

Laufey crossed the distance between them in a couple strides and grabbed Thor's left arm above the elbow.

Thor yelled in pain as Laufey's hand necrotized his skin nearly black, and he fell back to his knees.

A dagger slid into a pale hand.

"Foolish child," Laufey said disdainfully, keeping hold of Thor's arm as the boy tried hopelessly to dislodge himself from the giant's grasp, biting his lip to keep from uttering any sounds of pain.

"Let my brother go!" Loki yelled, burying the dagger into Laufey's side.

Laufey let go of Thor's arm in surprise, turning around and grabbing Loki by the jaw, lifting him up off the ground while taking the blood-stained knife from where it pierced him and tossing it aside. He spared a glance at the rope that had been cut through, before looking back at Loki when the boy didn't start screaming.

Laufey's red eyes widened in shock.

Instead of his skin burning at the frost giant's touch, Loki's skin was taking on the same dark hue, cerulean creeping over his sharp features, revealing swirling intrinsic markings.

Markings Laufey recognized.

Loki glanced down at his blue hands, which had automatically went up to try to keep Laufey from choking him, before staring up at the King of Jotunheim with equally stupefied red eyes.

Laufey dropped Loki to the ground, taking a few steps back and continuing to stare as Loki's skin slowly paled back to its previous shade, Loki panting for breath.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?!" Thor roared, trying to get to his brother, only to be held back by a couple Jotun guards, nearly shrieking as their touches burned him.

"And you called me the liar," Laufey mused, "When Odin's the one that's been lying to you both for your entire lives."

Green eyes met red.

Laufey started pacing, his heavy footsteps rumbling through the floor.

"During the war, my wife, Farbauti, birthed us a son. Small, for a Frost Giant. A runt. Nevertheless, he was to be my heir, assuming he survived. When the Asgardians drove us back here," Laufey encompassed Jotunheim with a wave of his hand "_Slaughtering _us, not just our warriors, but woman and children as well, Farbauti took our son to the temple, thinking it would be safe.

"When I returned, Farbauti was dead, and our son gone. Killed, I'd assumed. The Aesir were not above such an action.

"But," he turned to look down at Loki, who was watching him with dawning horror.

Laufey smiled cruelly, a mixture of relief and ire. "It seems Odin instead took him for his own, raised him as a Prince of Asgard, no doubt with the purpose of using him to one day unite or realms, bring about a permanent peace. Clever of him, very clever."

Loki was wide-eyed, breathing harshly as he dropped his gaze, green eyes flicking across the floor as the ill-fitting pieces of his life shattered, sliding back into place with a nauseating crack.

_("Only one of you can ascend to the throne. But both of you were _born _to be kings.")_

Thor looked between Laufey and Loki, his expression somewhere between bewildered and furious.

"What is this?!" he demanded.

Loki's face twisted with a myriad of emotions before settling into something disturbingly blank."I am Laufey's son. A Frost Giant."

"Laufey's a liar and a monster! You can't possibly believe him, brother!" Thor exclaimed.

_("When I'm King, I'll hunt the monsters down and slay them all!")_

"I am not your brother," Loki stated simply, nearly choking on the words as he lifted his hollow gaze to Thor's. "You saw for yourself."

Thor shook his head in denial, unable to believe it.

Laufey's expression was stolid as he watched the interaction, though there was a flash of something that might have been grief. He looked up suddenly as if he'd heard something, a corner of his mouth twitching, before he waved for his guards to grab the two boys.

"Take them to the dungeons," He ordered. "I believe we're expecting more guests."

* * *

"Give this to Th-the Asgardian," Loki said, holding out the thick black coat he'd taken off to one of the Jotun guards. "He's going to need it."

The guard sneered, but took the cloak, tossing it into the cell that Thor was being forced into.

Loki turned and stepped calmly into his own cell before the guards could force him. As soon as the giants were gone, he retreated into the far corner, wrapping his arms around his legs and hugging them to his thin chest, letting his forehead rest against his knees. He seemed to shrink into himself, looking even smaller than he already did in the giant-sized cell.

* * *

Thor shivered, wincing each time he moved his arms and shoulders, which were covered in black burns. At the very least his hands had been untied, though.

He stared down at the black cloak that had been tossed to the floor by one of the Jotuns, apparently upon the request of his brother—he refused to think of Loki as anything _other_ than his brother— before crossing over to the huge frozen door, stubbornly refusing to put it on despite the fact that even with his own cloak he was still shivering, and it was all he could do to keep his teeth from chattering.

"Loki?" He called shakily.

Even standing on his tiptoes, Thor couldn't see through the high, barred window.

"Loki? Brother, are you there?" Thor tried again, his voice echoing eerily around the icy chamber.

He waited. Hearing nothing, he opened his mouth to call again, before being cut off by a mumbled answer, though he couldn't pinpoint the direction it came from.

"Put on the cloak, Thor. I don't need it."

* * *

Laufey watched the posse of Asgardians approach, the bodyguards with their yellow capes surrounding the King, who then stepped in front as they approached his throne.

"King Laufey," Odin ground out, his head nodding the slightest bit in required respect.

"Odin Allfather," the Jotun greeted in his deep rumble. He was leaning back in his throne, smiling dangerously.

"By taking my sons captive, you have violated our peace accord. They've done neither Jotunheim nor her citizens harm, so I request that you return them to me," Odin said, his one eye glaring at Laufey imperiously. "I don't think Jotunheim could deal with another war in her present state."

"You underestimate us, oh _High One_," Laufey jeered.

"Perhaps I _have_ underestimated your ability to be stubbornly unreasonable," Odin growled back.

Laufey's eyes flashed menacingly, and he stood up, evoking his height advantage. "I think they have been treated more fairly than they deserve. Any Jotun that dared place a toe across Asgard's borders would be instantly killed, do not you deny it," he snarled, fingers curling at his sides.

"If you do not return me my sons, I will not hesitate to wage war. Do not pretend you know not what your actions would unleash," Odin said, somehow managing to glare _down _at Laufey, despite the other being over twice his height.

Laufey snorted furiously, before lowering himself back down onto his throne. "Let us make a deal: I will return to you your offspring, if you return to us the Casket of Ancient Winters."

Odin's eye flashed, but before he could refuse, Laufey continued "I do not wish for war, oh _Terrible One_. I seek not the destruction of your _golden _cities. The last war I started was a mistake, derived from a need to prove myself a man, when I was but yet a boy. I longed for battle, I _craved _it."

Laufey cast his eyes down for a moment, and a hint of remorse flickered in their red depths.

"But I have grown weary of such aggressive practices. No, do not threaten war, Odin_. _You desire war no more than I. Since the placing of our peace treaty, Asgard has healed, become prosperous once again.

"But Jotunheim is crumbling, wasting away; and in my request for the return of the Casket I wish only for the means to restore my kingdom to all its glory."

Odin scrutinized Laufey for several long moments. "Your terms are fair," Odin conceded finally. "We have an agreement. However, should you try to cheat out of it, you will find Asgard most unmerciful."

Laufey smirked. "Of course."

Sending the Jotun King one last glare, the Allfather turned and strode from the hall, his bodyguards taking their positions around him as they prepared to head back to Asgard for the Casket.

* * *

Thor slouched against the wall of the cell, now wrapped in both fur cloaks, watching his breath spiral into the frigid air, which was so cold that it stung when he breathed in through his nose.

He'd tried desperately to get Loki to talk to him again, receiving only silence in return.

Thor let his head fall into his hands, his long blond hair sweeping across his face. He could hardly believe that a seemingly innocent trip to the snow had turned into such a nightmare...

Heavy footsteps rang through the dungeons, and Thor looked up apprehensively as they stopped in front of his cell, the door swinging outwards with a groan.

Two Jotuns grabbed him roughly, jerking him to his feet.

"You are being returned to your father," one of the Jotuns said, in reply to Thor's suspicious glare.

Thor followed willingly enough, until they passed by Loki's closed, locked cell.

The giants dragged him the rest of the way kicking and yelling.

* * *

When Odin returned, Thor was deposited in front of him, dark frostnip covering his arms and part of his face. A couple of the Asgardian guards hurriedly went over to him and helped him to his feet, bringing him over to the Allfather.

Odin's gaze hardened as he turned to Laufey, but the Jotun interrupted him before he could speak.

"He's in far better shape than any Jotun would have been at your hands."

Odin clenched his jaw. "Where is Loki?" he demanded.

"You have no business asking for what is not yours," Laufey said, smirking maliciously. "I have returned to you your _offspring_, as I agreed. You now have your heir. And I now have mine."

The King of Asgard inhaled sharply.

"Father, we can't leave Loki here!" Thor said desperately, turning his pleading gaze to Odin. "We can't leave my brother!"

Odin looked down at Thor impassively. "Loki is not your brother, Thor."

"HOW CAN YOU—" Thor began furiously.

"Silence!" Odin hissed, cutting him off.

Thor's jaw dropped and he stared at his father; his expression utterly betrayed.

"The Casket," Laufey demanded. "I have fulfilled my part of the bargain, now you must fulfill yours."

His jaw clenched angrily, Odin waved to one of his bodyguards, who took out the Casket and placed it in the center of the floor.

"We will be given a safe leave," Odin said to Laufey. It wasn't a question.

Laufey nodded, his darkly delighted smirk still in place.

The Asgardians left without another word.

* * *

Thor walked dejectedly down the bifrost, head hung low, feet dragging across the ground, scraping, the last threads of daylight drifting beneath the mountains and cloaking the group in yet another shade of darkness.

He didn't even seem to register the abrupt change of temperature, the warm summer night quickly bringing sweat to his body beneath the two furs. Odin had to take them off Thor's shoulders himself so the boy didn't overheat.

Thor grabbed them back, ripping them from Odin's grip and hugging them to his chest, almost protectively.

Their horses taken back to the stables, they began walking up the steps to the castle.

Odin reached forward to place a hand on Thor's shoulder, probably for comfort, but Thor whirled on him.

Thor had never been eloquent with his words, but then, he didn't really need to be. (He had Loki for that.)

But Thor's actions and expressions spoke worlds.

He trembled now; trembled uncontrollably. It was like the storm winds, were whipping up inside his ribcage, the thunder obstructing his heartbeat, the lightning crackling in his eyes.

"_HOW COULD YOU?!" _He screamed now, the words wrenching themselves from his throat like tortured creatures.

"LOKI IS YOUR SON—_MY BROTHER—_AND YOU JUST LEFT HIM THERE!"

Odin said nothing, just let his son scream.

It pained him, a blow to the gut with each syllable that deepened the lines in his face and aged him. But for what was lost or what was said, it didn't show.

He could only hope that the echoes of his sons shouts didn't run amok through the streets of Asgard and jerk the city into wakefulness.

"YOU LET LAUFEY TAKE HIM, YOU DIDN'T EVEN _TRY _TO GET HIM BACK!"

The guards bit their lips at the boy's wretchedly desperate voice, turning their gazes away, as if it would lessen the strain on the already writhing words.

"YOU JUST _LEFT HIM_ THERE!"

No matter how loudly Thor shouted, he couldn't drown out Loki's words from his mind, words that tremored the air between ghostly lips that were salty with tears and deepened the dark, even as he held Loki and the nightmares fled, leaving only echoes.

_("You left me... you all left me... and it was so, so cold...")_

Thor's breathing was heavy and ragged, like to tear through the flesh between each rib as they flexed.

He glared at Odin for a few more long seconds, before he spun around and strode into the castle, footsteps ripping up the floor's empty wails.

He passed his reflection in each window, eyes void and face blank except for tearstains that glistened like liquid moonlight from the corners of his eyes and over his mouth and chin.

"How could you?" Thor whispered to himself, voice now hallow, words inky. He shuddered in a silent sob and choked on the night as it pooled in his lungs.

"_How could you?" _

* * *

Frigga came rushing through the hallways to see what the commotion was. She caught sight of Thor and swooped down upon him and hugged him close, but unlike usual he didn't relax into her embrace.

"What happened, my son?" She asked worriedly, pulling back so she could looked at him, her hands on his shoulders. "What was all the shouting about? And where is Loki?"

Thor cast his eyes down and tried to wet his lips with his dry tongue.

"Loki... is in Jotunheim. Father let Laufey have him."

"He _what?!" _Frigga shrieked, letting go of his shoulders and rushing outside, the color of her golden gown muted by the night and swishing around her feet like the ominous murmurings of a distant storm.

Thor kept walking into the gloom, clutching Loki's black cloak tightly to himself.

His own cloak was left forgotten on the floor.

He couldn't have cared less.

When he dragged himself into his chambers, he tripped on the clutter on his floor and collapsed onto the bed, staring at the would-be black hole that was his ceiling, had his eyes not adjusted to the darkness on his unlit walk.

He could make out the ghostly outlines that marked the edges of everything, and he could see that the ceiling was just that—a ceiling. Not a gaping expanse of darkness.

He could see exactly where he would touch it were he to jump.

Even as his mind wandered to other thoughts, the hole in his chest deepened, till he felt like what the ceiling would surely have felt had it dissolved into gloom.

Lucky, lucky ceilings.

He closed his eyes.

Things looked different. It looked like drops of rain were falling to impale his eyes.

He opened them again, and he could feel the stickiness of dried tears in his lashes.

When was the last time he'd cried?

He didn't feel like trying to remember. It was probably Loki's fault.

Thor's smile was tenuous, dim.

Loki always joked how everything was his fault.

Thor's smile flickered out.

Was this? He didn't think so.

The deeper shadows that webbed the corners of his room fluctuated, and he was reminded of the stories he and his brother had been told when they were younger; about monsters that would tear children limb from limb if they weren't tucked up safely in bed, and would mar the windows with frost, marks of their attempts to get inside and slit sleeping throats.

Frost Giants, they'd been told. It was always Frost Giants.

And when Thor closed his eyes, he saw green ones, emitting a dim glow that just barely caught on the scarred face.

Where had those scars come from? Had they always been there?

Did they just, appear?

Cerulean lips trembled and ice frosted the tresses of black hair that drifted into the terrified face, the ends curling ever so slightly at the nape of the pale neck.

As the cold crept, slowly the familiar eyes washed over with red.

But the expression was the same.

The _person _was the same.

Things he'd believed without a doubt for centuries, he suddenly found himself questioning. Questioning everything he'd been taught about the Jotuns being monsters.

If Loki, the brightest, kindest, cleverest person he knew was a Frost Giant...

He buried his face in the black cloak, which smelled of fur, and of Loki: a hint of rain and ash wood.

And he couldn't shake the sickening feeling, deep in his gut, that Loki was wrapped up in his nightmares turned reality.

When sleep finally took his hand and led him away, whispering nothingness, its voice was Loki's.

* * *

**Have I mentioned that I love writing depressed Thor? Because I absolutely love writing depressed Thor... **

**Please review and let me know what you think! ^.^ **


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm back from camp! And can I just say that once again, seeing all the alerts, faves and reviews, I am absolutely awed and flattered by the response to this story. Thank you all so, so much! *-***

**After not having access to a computer for a week... I am so looking forward to being able to write and respond and post again. Eheheh, one of the first things I did on the computer after turning it on was to make a cover for this story, using a picture of Loki from _Thor: Tales of Asgard_ (because they're teens in it, and I it's kind of how I imagine them looking like, a bit) XD Admittedly I'm not the best at altering pictures, but it was fun... **

**Anyways, here's the next chapter, and I hope you enjoy! :)**

* * *

Green eyes kept firmly closed, Loki hugged himself tighter, a maelstrom of emotions churning his stomach as he heard Thor being hauled away to be returned to Asgard, cries of _"No! You can't take me from my brother! Let me go, you insensitive fiends! I'm not leaving without him!" _ringing through the icy chamber. The farther Thor was taken towards the throne room, the less coherent his shouting became, till he finally resorted to wordless screams of rage.

Yet Loki didn't move. It was almost as if he'd been frozen in place, captive not just of the cell in the recesses of the Jotunheim dungeons, but also of his own tumultuous thoughts and memories rising unbidden from the recesses of his mind.

He shivered ever so slightly as the frigid air clawed him, raking across his skin as if trying to burn a part of him away.

However, amongst the myriad of emotions that beat outwards from his heart and tingled in his extremities, surprise was, surprisingly enough, not one of them.

Because this all made so much _sense. _

* * *

"_I'm so proud of you." _

_Loki watched from the shadowed edges of the hall as Odin clapped Thor on the shoulder, smiling. There was something in his eyes, and Loki could feel the sting of indignation and jealousy making his throat sore. _

_A hand against his side, Loki could feel the red seeping between his fingers, warm and sticky. _

_Never mind that it had been he who had alerted Thor and the others to the bilgesnipe's presence minutes before the beast had disturbed their ride. _

_Never mind that it had been he who had come up with the strategy to fell the creature, once it became clear that a fight would be looked for. _

_Never mind that it had been he who had blinded the beast, confused and tripped it with daggers and magic and allowed them to kill it, he who had gotten in the way of its antlers as Thor played the idiotically brave hero. _

_No, Thor of course got all the credit. _

_Even Vosltagg, who had hardly done anything to help besides make the beast angrier, got more credit than he did. _

_What could he say though? He was proud of Thor too (for holding his tongue.) _

_Loki would easily take the blame—it was so much easier to just let them believe what they wanted to, rather than try to tell the truth, as they always believed what they wanted to anyway. _

_He knew that. _

_What he didn't understand though, was why Odin seemed to want to believe that it was always Loki's fault. That he was always at fault._

_He could still remember the venom in the Allfather's gaze the last time it had been known that Loki had used magic in a fight, could still remember Odin's words as he had grabbed Loki's collar roughly. _

"_Quite messing with a womans' art," the Allfather had growled. "You dishonor our family with your cheating and trickery." _

_How angry Odin always was. After the incident where he'd saved Sleipnir*, though the horse had ended up with eight legs in the process, the Allfather had threatened to lock him in the dungeon for a year (Loki had no doubt he would do it, too.) _

_Oh, how easy it was to lie though, how easy it was to hide his learning. In the dead of night he'd sneak down to the Library, borrow books of magical theory and conceal them in his room, where he'd stay up nearly to sunrise practicing. _

_He made sure to put away the tomes, parchment and ink, then snatching a quick nap before Thor would barge in with poorly made plans for some new adventure. _

_He couldn't keep up with the others in fighting practice, not the way they fought with force, standing their ground and beating till their opponent broke. _

_So what if he developed a style all his own? A style that was the wind to Thor's rock... _

"_That's not fighting," the others hissed, snickering cruelly. "That's dancing!"_

"_You're such a girl!" They said, "First magic, and now this. Why don't you just stay inside and leave the fighting to the warriors, little princess?" _

"_Is being a 'girl' supposed to be an insult?" Loki would ask, smirking. "Because if you mean to say that girls are weak and foolish, I know Sif would be eager to disprove that." _

_Disprove them she did, and quite often, leaving them horribly beaten and wishing they'd never opened their mouths. _

_Loki admired her for that, her perseverance despite Asgard's customs being against her. _

_But why, then, were they more accepting of her breaking tradition, than him? _

_Why did she have Odin's support, whilst he didn't? _

_Loki turned to exit the hall, hoping to make it to his chambers in order to heal himself before anyone saw he'd been hurt. _

_(He couldn't let them see him weak—couldn't let them smell the blood, like wolves singling out the injured beast and preying upon it, ripping it apart and scattering limbs across the troubled soil, rent by the roots of upturned trees.) _

_A hand on his shoulder however stopped him. _

"_Loki?" Thor said, his shoulders still back, chest still puffed out slightly at Odin's compliments. _

_Loki turned, slowly, deliberately, a smile forced on his face. _

"_Congratulations on your victory, brother. Come to gloat?" _

_Thor furrowed his brow. "What are you talking about? I came over to get you to join the festivities." He waved his hand at the feast, gesturing grandly._

_There always seemed to be a feast. _

"_I'd rather not," Loki said coldly, turning to leave again. _

"_But Brother-" Thor reached out and grabbed Loki's arm, immediately withdrawing his hand when he felt blood, staring down at his red-drenched fingers. _

"_You're hurt!" Thor said, eyes wide as he glanced back up at Loki. _

"_I'm fine, you dolt," Loki hissed, before spitting out a lie like breath that sifted silvery between his teeth."It's the bilgesnipe's blood—not mine. Now excuse me while I go clean the stuff off." _

_He stormed out of the room before Thor could say anything else. _

* * *

_The boy pinned Loki against the wall, fist tangled in the collar of Loki's shirt and pressing against his neck. Bruises were already appearing black and blue on Loki's arms and face, like shadows beneath his eyes. _

_(Which might already have been there.) _

"_Look at you, wretch" the boy hissed, gripping Loki's shirt harder so that the small prince gasped for breath. "Thor won't be here to protect your disgraceful little ass. And without your magic, what are you?" _

_Loki shook his head weakly. "I guess you'll never find out." _

_The boy's fist connected with wall. _

_He shrieked, cradling his hand to his chest. "Coward!" He shouted. "Seidr is for weaklings and cowards! You disgrace yourself and the royal family! You disgrace Asgard, you little wretch!" _

_Loki watched the boy's face as the boy raged. _

_He tried to keep his lip from trembling. _

Why? _Why do they all say that? _

_True, he wasn't as strong... could never be as strong... he was so _different_... _

_Different in the way he found comfort not in the weight of a sword in his hand, clutched solid, substantial, and metallic in his grip, but in the steady pulse of power through his veins and stretching like gossamers between his fingers. _

_Different in the way he moved with a sidelong, rather than straightforward, purpose, his feet carrying him over the ground like it bowed to him freely, rather than each step being pressed down like he needed to force it to bow. _

_Different in the way he talked, words drifting from his lips like wind, softly, eroding so subtly as to unnoticeable, rather than with a blunt, hammered blow that dented the metal and left shockwaves tingling up one's arm. _

_He searched the boy's face for answers. _

_Wondering if he was seeing wrong when he saw fear, could practically _feel _it wafting from the boy in infrared. Is that what it was, that the children who beat him up practically stank of? That the gods and goddesses that glared, glowered and sneered at him when they shared the same vicinity harbored in their gazes? _

Fear?

_The hallways, whenever he walked them, were always full of whispers. _

_So many epithets for him on their tongues, a thick fog that surrounded him and stuck to his skin, coloring him Liar, Craven, Dark Prince, Trickster, Troublemaker, Odin's Disgrace, his footsteps completely silent but his presence announced by contemptuous words and glances that seemed to try to ruffle up his hair with a bite. _

_Maybe, he'd thought to himself, he should slick his hair back, so that their words and insults rolled off like water on duck feathers, droplets falling to the floor and painting it with his footprints. _

_Maybe they'd slip in the puddles, then, slip and land on their faces, where they would taste the bile they shot to corrode him, and rot away their tongues till they were forced to use their eyes for once, raw and unveiled, feel the pain as the glass in their soul's windows burned away to reveal gaping holes of darkness, wherein all colors appear the same._

_He'd tried walking through the corridors unseen, gathering the shadows about his shoulders like a cloak and pulling them over his head like hood, hiding his face, close to the wall where he seldom brushed against their light-drenched clothes, in hopes to avoid their voices. _

_But the less they said, the more that he heard; their words in his absence even more barbed than the ones in his presence, needling beneath his skin no matter how he scrunched his eyes to try to block out the shots—with nowhere to aim, they would surely miss? _

_Yet they marked him still. _

_When he teleported back to his room, he felt blue and cold._

* * *

"_Thor," Loki called from the back of the group. "Thor, wait!" _

_Thor, Sif, and the 'Warriors Three,' as the boys had come to call themselves, ran ahead of him. _

_They were out on a hunt for wild boar for the night's feast, having recently been taught the correct method and given permission. _

_Thor had begged the reluctant Loki to go with them, and he had, upon Thor threatening to do something stupid, finally given in._

_He regretted it. _

_They'd been running only for about an hour, but Loki found himself clutching his side from a cramp, and his legs trembling beneath him. _

_Usually he could last significantly longer than this. _

_The sun beat down on them without mercy, and even when there were patches of shade, the air itself was arid and warm, the wind hot like a hound's breath. _

_Sweat ran in rivers down Loki's brow, trickling into his eyes, into his mouth, droplets collecting and streaming down his neck. His drenched tunic clung to his lean body. _

_He didn't complain, however. _

_It wasn't until the world started spinning around him, the ground convulsing beneath his feet and the sky trying to break the horizon with a malicious intent to suffocate him, that he called out. _

_Thor came up short at the top of the ridge, glancing back at his lagging brother. _

"_What is it, Loki?" He asked, perplexed. _

"_I..." Loki rasped, staggering up to the others, using every ounce of focus to keep his balance on the whirlpooling ground, arm clutched around his waist. "I think..." _

_His lips were so dry they cracked as he spoke, blood beginning to trickle down his chin. _

"_Think what?" Thor prodded, though he was glancing around their surroundings. _

_The others snickered slightly as Loki stumbled, looking exhausted, his breathing rapid and shallow._

"_What, already tired?" Sif snorted, muttering under her breath. "Weakling." _

_Loki, for once, didn't hear. He reached a hand out to catch himself on his brother's shoulder, fingertips barely grazing the red cloth, before his eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed. _

"_Brother!" Thor cried, dropping to his knees and gathering Loki into his arms. _

_Loki wondered idly why Thor's skin felt so cold against his own. _

_His pulse was rapid as a the wings of a moth, fluttering about the light of a bonfire till it got too close, its singed wings sending it spiraling down into flames. _

_The weight of the sky crumbled the pedestal of the horizon, and it crashed down upon him in a wave of darkness. _

* * *

A cold rush of power flooded outwards from the heart of Jotunheim in torrents, sweeping over everything with a crashing force, plunging the world beneath waves.

_The Casket. _

Loki took a deep, shuddering breath, as the wintry chill permeated him from the inside out; he could feel the magic traveling through the ground, the air, the walls, strengthening and repairing, invigorating and enlivening.

Through his body, acute as poison. Only this was a far more pleasant sensation.

Immediately, his shivering stopped.

He opened his red eyes.

* * *

Laufey stood back from the runed pedestal upon which the Casket of Ancient Winters had been now returned.

The power pulsed from it, traveling down the veins of the pedestal and into the ice itself, spreading throughout their entire world, beating with life.

It was the heart of Jotunheim, after all.

He hadn't even realized how deadened his realm had become. It wasn't until he looked out the temple window at his kingdom that he realized just how sick and wizened the city of Jotunheim and the land itself had become, the cracks and crevasses that had marred the ice crackling as it healed together like skin before his eyes.

The city that had once been ruins, desolate and crumbling, now rose proudly towards the sky like colossal crowns of kings, the highest spires catching the first rays of sunlight like gems.

Laufey allowed himself a smile, his first genuine one in many, many years.

* * *

It must have been morning.

Loki looked up as the heavy footsteps traveled through the dungeons and stopped outside the door to his cell. The locked clicked, and the door swung outwards, a Jotun stepping through, back regally straight.

Laufey.

Loki tried to press himself even farther into the corner, blue hands scrabbling on the ice.

Seeing the unmistakable fear in the boy's red eyes, Laufey stopped short, uncertainty flickering across his scarred face.

Loki, somewhere in the back of his mind, marveled at how it was no harder to read the Jotuns' expressions than it had been to read the Asgardians'.

Laufey's eyebrows set in determination and he strode forward, kneeling down in front of Loki and lifting him to his feet.

Before he could try to run, try anything, anything _at all _to get away, Laufey abruptly pulled him into a hug.

"I'm sorry," Laufey murmured, deep voice resonating through the cell, quiet as it was. "I'm so sorry."

Loki stiffened, his eyes saucers in his face. His mind scrabbled at the walls and drew pieces of light from the procured cracks, searching each scribbled word for any rhyme or reason to this situation.

He didn't like this, the way everything was slipping through his fingers like water turned steam, such that he had no grasp over what was going on and thus no way to analyze it and turn it to some sort of an advantage.

He prided himself his ability to subvert pattern and order and reduce it to a level of pandemonium that he could _use. _

But in order to do that he had to have some level of understanding, a different kind of trembling.

To be the one lost in confusion was a feeling he resented.

But he was grasping at straws here, and they cut his delicate hands.

Laufey pulled back and let his eyes sweep over Loki, his cerulean skin that upon inspection was a shade or two lighter than Laufey's own, his dark hair that fell into his face and almost obscured his ruby eyes, the intrinsic markings along his face that mirrored Laufey's own.

Loki squirmed under Laufey's gaze, tugging at his green Asgardian tunic.

Laufey put large hand under his chin and lifted his head so that he looked into his father's eyes, which glimmered with something that looked like joy, maybe pride even.

Loki furrowed his brow, wondering how that could possibly be right. He couldn't even remember Odin looking at him like that.

Perhaps Jotuns were harder to read after all.

"What did they tell you?" Laufey asked gently, a hand on his shoulder.

He creased his brow yet further.

"What were you told about Jotuns in Asgard?"

Loki shook his head mutely, unable to bring himself to tell.

Tell about the tales of The War, of how the Jotuns had invaded Midgard for the simple reason of plunging it into an ice age and taking it for their own, about how the Jotuns had been evil and merciless, decimating the land and killing all signs of life, and Asgard had driven them back into the heart of their world and taken the Casket so they could not do such again.

(History is written by the victors.)

He couldn't bring himself to tell about the stories parents told children at night, till they thought they could see, in the reflection on window glass, the dim red glow of Frost Giant eyes beneath their bed. Till the chill of each midnight footfall on the cold stone floor was frost trying to creep up and freeze their bones; till each draft of winter wind that found its way through cracks beneath the door and windows was a Jotun's icy breath as they lay in wait, ready to tear little bodies limb from limb.

He couldn't bring himself to tell how Jotuns' were _evil_.

(Or so they said.)

"No, never mind," Laufey said, sighing sadly. "I know what they say. Jotuns say similar about Asgardians, after all."

Loki lifted his gaze from the icy floor that had already frozen through the leather of his boots and looked at Laufey; not without fear, but curiosity was slowly getting the better of him.

He almost wished it would take over him completely and banish the cold coils that settled in the pit of his stomach and snaked through his veins till his heartbeat felt hunted in his chest.

Laufey smiled slightly, but it was sincere and there was nothing hidden there as far as Loki could tell—and he always could—and it lightened the giant's intense features like the hard edges of ice thaw in the sun.

"Allow me to disprove some of those myths," Laufey offered, standing up and offering a large hand.

After scouring Laufey's face once more, Loki took the King of Jotunheim's hand, his own completely dwarfed in the dark grip.

Laufey's hand was rough and calloused, but it didn't feel cold.

* * *

***If you're curious about the Sleipnir incident, see chapter 59 of my story _Loki's Pranks. _**

**Okay, I digress: this is totally random, but today I was taking my sister's hair and brushing it over her face, and she was like "You're tickling my nose!" and I was like "That was the plan." "Not a great plan. Because when I sneeze - and I will - I'll sneeze on you." And then we both cracked up X3 **

**But back to something relevant, please review and let me know what you think of the chapter! ^.^**


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm so sorry for the wait! Please forgive me. It's just that first my laptop died (and then it was miraculously revived), and then I was grabbed by throat and throttled by six one-shot ideas (I'm not kidding - I now have six more stories than when I posted the previous chapter of this story... I had eleven stories, and I looked the other day and I had seventeen, and I was just like 'what O.o') But I couldn't deny myself the pleasure of writing them, so... yeah, that's my excuse. And school started so now I have a bit of homework that unfortunately takes priority over writing.  
**

**Also, moviegal99 on deviantArt drew an ADORABLE PIECE OF FANART FOR THIS STORY of Thor and Loki sledding, and if you're interested in checking it out (do it!) you can find the link on my profile page :D**

**And also on my profile is a link to a PETITION TO GET LOKI HIS VERY OWN MARVEL MOVIE kfldajflkdsjfkldsjfsajfdlkds if you are a Loki fan and you think that that would be absolutely incredible and amazing and perfect in every way, do go sign it! And tell your friends and fellow fans as well! **

**And without further ado, I hope that you enjoy this chapter, that it isn't too pointless, and that it sort of makes up for the wait! **

* * *

_Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap, _Frigga's shoes berated the floor with a stifled fury, as she crossed through shafts of moonlight from the windows, stripes in the darkness casting the tiles a white gold.

The cool night air brushed the tendrils of curling blond hair from her stony face as she stepped outside, striding straight towards her husband.

He turned when he saw her, trying to smile."Frigga dear—"

She slapped him, and the sound rang loudly in the following silence.

The guards quickly scurried away.

"What were you thinking," Frigga ground out, her voice deceptively soft, quavering with an undertone of anger, like water coming to a boil. "Leaving Loki, _our son_, with Laufey?"

Odin met her gaze, but was outnumbered, his one pale eye against her two livid ones. "I had no choice," he explained, expecting her to break him off.

She waited, and inwardly he squirmed.

He realized to himself, a tickling thought in his mind, that she was the only one who could make the King of Asgard reduced to fear.

Frigga radiated vehemence in waves, and her hair and clothes practically crackled with the electricity of it when she moved or the breeze ruffled them.

"I didn't know Laufey had figured out Loki was his son," Odin defended, "His barter was that he would return to me my _offspring_ if I gave him the Casket."

Still Frigga said nothing, seeming perfectly content to let him flounder, talk himself into a hole of his own making.

"I failed to notice the careful word choice. And then it was too late—I couldn't go back on my word."

He pulled himself up as tall as he could, pulling his kingly air around him like a cloak.

But it fell away when Frigga smirked darkly.

"How many times Loki has gotten you with the same trick," she tilted her head. "The same subtle, particular eloquence that lets him slip through loopholes and entangle his listeners. He's a talented boy, _my son _Loki, and not a quality has he picked up from you. I can't say I'm surprised."

Her blue eyes burned through his skull, and he had to avert his gaze.

"But you could have been more careful," she hissed, stepping up closer to him. "You could have _done something. _You didn't have to _leave him there_."

Glancing down, she said softly to herself, a murmur, "He always was afraid of getting left behind..."

Frigga's cold eyes snapped back up to her husband's face. _"Do you even care?" _

"Perhaps we should take this inside—" Odin started, only to be once more slapped across his face.

He lifted a hand to his stinging cheek.

"What were you thinking?" she asked again, and still she didn't raise her voice.

"I just wanted our sons home and safe as quickly as possible," Odin justified, frustration beginning to heighten his tone, as he clenched his hands into fists at his side.

"But aren't you the one who says that you do everything for a reason?" Frigga continued mercilessly, "Oh almighty and wise _Allfather. _How could you say you did not think of it, standing in the cold flurries of Jotunheim, walking the same steps you did in the war, that you didn't remember taking Loki from the temple? Didn't remember that he was one of them, as you stood before his father, seeing Loki's smirk on his face and hearing such silvery words? Do not think to play fool with me, Odin."

The twist of her lips was creeping closer and closer to a sneer. "With your whole body thrumming in apprehension as the ghosts of the war danced around you in that frigid palace, how could you not hear each of Laufey's words ringing with icy clarity?"

She was inches from him now, reading the truth in his face, the backs of her irises glinting in a shaft of moonlight, digging into his soul like knives and twisting.

"No," she breathed. "You left Loki there purposefully."

Frigga whirled on her heels, skirts sparking blue where the fabric brushed, and the harsh echoes of her footsteps heading towards the bifrost let Odin know that he would not be forgiven.

* * *

Heimdall regarded the Queen of Asgard with his bronze stare as she stood before him, having dismounted her horse, the beast nuzzling her neck even as she stroked his gray nose, telling him to wait.

She turned her attention to the gatekeeper, her silence demanding.

"You wish to venture to Jotunheim," Heimdall intoned. It wasn't a question, and so Frigga did not deign to answer. "You're not dressed warmly enough."

"This cloak will suffice," Frigga said assuredly, stroking the brown fur near her neck. "I do not plan to remain there long."

The gatekeeper nodded, turning and entering the bifrost, Frigga at his heels.

He slipped his sword into the lock, and the mechanism began to spin, a beam of multicolored light shooting off into the black, sweeping the Queen with it and setting her gently upon the ice.

* * *

A pair of red eyes glowed in the gloom before her as Frigga entered the cavernous chamber, seeing King Laufey sitting on his throne, expectantly.

"Queen Frigga," he acknowledged, inclining his head. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

She was struck for a moment by his resemblance of Loki—the same sharp features, the same long-limbed and lean figure (albeit much larger), the same thin, quick-to-smirk lips.

"I have come about Loki," Frigga stated bluntly.

Laufey leaned forward, placing his chin upon his fingers. "You cannot have him back."

"I came not to retrieve him," Frigga said, tilting her head as she looked up at him, appearing not in the least frightened or unsure, her posture straight, head high, eyes flashing. "I know a bargain struck cannot be revoked. I came merely to make it clear that you treat Loki as a Prince—as a _son—_that if you hold no love for him that you at least show kindness. And if I hear that Loki has been hurt," she stepped forward, coming up to the steps before the throne, voice lowering dangerously. "You can be sure that his mother, who I can assure you _loves_ him, will not care the least for breaking any vow and will _come and get him." _

Laufey blinked those red eyes, and the dim light they seemed to cast on the immediate area darkened out when covered by his dark teal eyelids, before lighting again as he opened them. His smirk disappeared, to be replaced by a genuine smile.

"And I can assure you," he answered. "That his _father_ loves him as well. I will not let any harm come to him."

He stood, then, descending the steps towards her, and she didn't flinch or backup as he took her small, pale hand in his much larger one, kneeling down so as to bring it to his lips. He looked at her, wearing a familiar impish smile. "You can hold me to my word."

She let her hand fall back to her side, somewhat stunned. "You remind me of Loki," she said finally, narrowing her eyes in contemplation.

The frost giant just shook his head, standing and retreating back to his throne, lounging back against it.

"No, at his age I was perhaps more like your Thor," he said, shaking his head slightly. "Brash and loud and eager for battle. Loki is very much like Farbauti..." His tone lowered, as did his eyes.

Frigga thought she caught a glint or mourning flickering there in the red.

He looked back up, and the glint was gone. "You are granted safe passage back to your kingdom. No Jotun will attack you," he promised.

She inclined her head, taking her leave, not bothering with the hood of her cloak and letting the gently falling snowflakes nestle in her wavy hair.

Several minutes later Laufey felt the telltale sparking energy of the bifrost, specks of rainbows catching in the cracks of the icy hall.

How the Aesir ever thought to be inconspicuous in their travel was beyond him.

But then again, he recalled with a wan smirk, they won their wars through sheer force, not subtlety.

* * *

_The next day..._

Thor had awoken perhaps hours earlier, as the first rays of sunlight made their way through his window, lithe and haughty as cats.

He'd blinked, swung his feet to the floor and made to get up, only to crumple back into himself as the memories from the day before crashed through his head as the dam of sleep broke, and he curled himself under the covers as if he could hide from the truth.

Laying there simmering in his thoughts, his lost and stumbling emotions tinted blue with different levels of sadness and hopelessness began to twirl, faster and faster until they boiled down into red-hot anger, such that he'd thrown himself out of bed, and then proceeded to throw all his possessions around the against the walls.

When there was a knock at the door, he whirled around, flinging the first thing within reach—which turned out to be his desk—at it and shouting at whoever it was to leave him damn well alone.

"Thor, it's just us," Sif called, concern as evident in her voice as her eye roll. "Sif and the 'Warriors Three' as the boys are so fond of calling themselves."

"Hey!" Fandral protested, at her sarcastic tone. "The 'Warriors Three' is a mighty name, duly suited for us mighty warriors!"

"Aye?" Sif snorted, "Because I could have sworn you shrieked like a girl when you saw a rat."

"It ran over my foot!"

Thor growled in annoyance, stalking across the room towards the door, kicking things as he went. "What do you want?" he demanded, punctuating the question with a large metal shield sent clanging against the door, making it rattle slightly.

There was a pause, and Thor figured they were regarding the door warily.

"You've been in there all day, Thor," came Sif voice.

"You missed breakfast!" Volstagg added. "And if you don't come out, you'll miss lunch too!" He sounded horrified at the thought.

"I'm not hungry," Thor retorted. He grabbed a wooden mallet from the floor at his feet—he had no idea where it had come from—and chucked it at a torch post on the wall to his left, where it hit the metal and ricocheted off and straight through the window next to his bed, accompanied by the sound of shattering glass.

Shards sprinkled to the stone floor.

"You sound like you have pent up angst," Fandral remarked finally. "Why don't you come out to the training field with us?"

Volstagg chipped in again, adding "And after you do something active, you're sure to be hungry!"

There was the sound of something scraping against the floor as Thor shoved the desk out of the way, and then the door was wrenched open, and the four assembled Asgardians widened their eyes at the Prince.

He stood before a backdrop of strewn about and broken objects, the result of a storm that even his bed hadn't escaped from, and his long blond hair was a tangled mess down his back, his clothes he still wore from the day before crinkled, normally bright blue eyes darkened to a thunder gray in his tense face; there was a tightening around his eyes, a clenching of his jaw.

"You look unwell," Hogun stated the obvious in his gruff voice.

Fandral took a step closer to Volstagg, ready to duck behind the young man's bulk should the thunderer throw anything at them.

Thor's face remained strangely cold. "Do you know anything of what happened yesterday?"

They all shared bemused glances at the Prince's inquiry. "Um..."

"Have any of you seen Loki today?" Thor demanded again, voice somewhere between accusatory and desperate.

They shook their heads.

"I hardly think that's anything to worry about," Sif ventured hesitantly. "You know how he hides or runs off, studying or playing with his tricks or getting into mischief or whatever else he does. He always comes back though."

Thor's gaze burned into hers, before he dropped his eyes, voice low, appearing to be talking more to himself than any of them. "He won't be coming back. Not this time."

"What do you mean?" Fandral asked, as Thor continued to stare through the ground by his boots as if he could see through it to the stars beneath, through space all the way to Jotunheim.

"What do you mean Loki's not coming back?"

The prince didn't respond, head tilted down, hair falling into his face.

"Thor," Fandral pressed, more urgently now, anxiety creasing his brow, "What aren't you telling us? What in the Nine Realms has happened?"

Thor began trembling, a quake through his mountainous form. Fandral opened his mouth to speak again, but Sif shot him a warning glare, and he closed it.

She turned her gaze back to the thunderer, biting her lip.

None of them had ever seen Thor like this.

Never seen him so... so _defeated. _

Sure, Loki had had the occasional emotional meltdown—and none of them had ever known what to do in those instances, either—but Thor's outbursts were always pure, stormy anger, near as quick to dissipate as to materialize.

"Thor," Sif tried, placing a hand gently on Thor's shoulder. "Why don't we go to the training fields? Spar for a little while?"

Thor nodded vaguely in consent.

He didn't know what else to do with himself.

At the training grounds he committed himself with such a manic fury that the other Asgardians all balked at the opportunity to duel with him. Even the guards, whose part of the job description was to fight against the prince for training if he so desired it, had taken one look at him as he stalked into the field like a ticked off dragon, and had hurriedly fled, mumbling incoherent excuses.

Sif and the Warriors three watched in awed horror as he took everything out against the practice figures, the hardy, enchanted material breaking apart at the seams, strewing straw and fake limbs about the floor.

After destroying every one, he stood in the center of the arena, panting, sweat dripping down his face into his open mouth.

Down his neck, down his shirt, down his arms, stinging the frostnip hidden by his sleeves.

The sword slipped from his sweaty hands, clanging strangely loud against the dirt.

Stealing herself, Sif walked over, having grabbed a handkerchief from Fandral, and wiped the sweat from the thunderer's brow.

"Thor," she said softly, beseechingly, as he looked at her. "You know you can tell us anything. We only want to help you."

He sighed, gaze flickering from her to the Warriors Three, who hovered a few feet away.

"What do you know about the Frost Giants?" Thor asked, trying to come up with circumspect way to go about this.

"They're evil," Sif said immediately.

"Brutal, callous monsters," Hogun chipped in three words.

On normal occasions, Fandral would have whooped about Hogun the Grim saying six syllables.

As it were, he just added "There was a war between the Frost Giants and Asgard because they were trying to freeze Midgard and kill all the life there, then move on to the other realms as well. They're stuck in their homeworld without their Casket, full of hatred and plotting revenge."

Volstagg nodded in agreement, the beginnings of a red beard on his chin twitching. "They eat children," he said with a shudder.

Thor hesitated.

"And what," he hazarded, "Would you say if I told you that Loki was actually one of them, and that yesterday Odin gave him to Laufey in order to ensure peace and my safe return?"

Fandral gave a nervous laugh, and the others looked disturbed.

"I'd say you'd been taking lying lessons from Loki," Volstagg said with conviction, only to fall into uncertainty at the stony expression on Thor's face.

"You're kidding, right?" Sif asked, eyebrows furrowing.

"I mean, Loki's always been different," Fandral admitted with a frown, "but we all know he's the cleverest of all of us, and that though he's not a warrior his magic tricks do come in handy on occasion. There's certainly nothing monstrous about him though."

"But even if he's adopted—" Volstagg continued, "which I highly doubt he is—Odin would never do such a thing!"

Thor's eyes were dark as he growled. "And yet he did."

"Wait though, you aren't honestly saying that Loki is a Frost Giant?!" Sif protested, alarm in her face.

Thor closed his eyes. "I am," he said. He'd felt the Jotun's burning touch on his own arms; he'd seen Loki's skin melt over with blue, eyes filling with red, strange markings appearing on his face.

"But it changes nothing," he said, opening his eyes again, glaring at them all challengingly. "Loki is still my brother, and I love him."

"None can love a Frost Giant," Hogun said gruffly, a statement well-believed to be fact by the Aesir.

The thunderer's gaze was icy cold, like pelting rain, invisible against the stormy sky but felt as keen as daggers. "Then Loki is an counterexample to that statement, thus making it an untruth," he snarled, stepping closer, fists clenched threateningly by his side. "Or perhaps," he continued, voice trembling with anger, "you're calling me a liar?"

Hogun's dark eyes widened slightly, and he quickly shook his head.

"You know we wouldn't hold Loki's heritage against him—" Fandral tried to say assuredly, only to be interrupted by Thor's "No."

Fandral blinked in confusion. "I beg your pardon?"

"I don't know that you wouldn't hold it against him," Thor said, voice slow, hard.

Mouths fell open. Even Hogun appeared visibly uncomfortable with the admittance of mistrust.

"You should know," a new voice said, mellifluous and like white gold, causing them all to whirl around as the Queen of Asgard came up to them. "That monsters are not born."

She paused, blue eyes mirroring Thor's stormy shade. "They're made."

Sif and the Warriors Three looked at her with widened gazes, like rabbits cornered by hunting dogs, before she said to them, sweetly, "Run along now, children. And if you breath so much as a word about any of this, well..." she smiled. "You know that the punishment for treason is not a light one."

They left about as quickly as they could while still holding a scrap of dignity.

Then Frigga wrapped her arms around Thor, and he was resting his head against hers, smelling the faint, sweet aroma of honeysuckle that was always about her.

"Loki..." he breathed. "Is there anything we can do to get him back?!"

"Oh Thor," she said, running her fingers through his hair the way like she had when he was but a child. "I don't know."

* * *

**Oh dang, depressed!Thor got into this chapter a bit too, didn't he? Heheh... don't worry though, there will be more action! (Eventually :P) I have a pretty strong idea about where I want this story to go... it's just getting there that's a bit challenging... hm... **

**I really really hope everyone's in character.**

**Okay so I was trying to see if I could come up with a writing schedule for this story, but I just don't know, but I'll try to update as often as I can, and hopefully it will be pretty regular, although I also have two other chapter fics I'm working on that I want to start updating regularly as well... we'll have to see how it goes.  
**

**Anyways, I'd appreciate it if you left a review and let me know what you think of the chapter! ^.^ **


	5. Chapter 5

**Oh my gods, this chapter was so hard to write! XD I started writing it and then got stuck and hit a wall of writer's block... Thank you _so much_ to the amazing people who helped me through it! (You know who you are ;3) **

**And um, I really really hope this chapter is okay! The inspiration to write of course had to strike me at an already late hour of night, and I have to get up early tomorrow. Funny how that happens. So yeah, the chapter isn't really looked over, so there's probably typos or whatever... **

* * *

The first thing Loki had noticed was just how _huge _everything was.

He'd thought the castle of Asgard large, but this was a whole league of its own. Just the hallways were as wide as Asgard's dining hall, and they stretched on and winded on endlessly, lined with sentinels every few hundred meters that were so still he could have sworn they were frozen, could he not see their red eyes blinking every now and then.

The ceiling arched above his head like the back of giant, fickle cat, and the pillars that held it up seemed to be formed from stalactites and stalagmites of ice meeting in the middle of the air and forming together, and he had to tilt his head all the way back to see where they met the ceiling.

He didn't even try to keep the awe off his face as he turned his head this way and that, taking in every flicker of the icicles' motionless dance.

Holding on to Laufey's large fingers, his hand appeared to be like that of a young child. He'd been small even amongst the Aesir, and now amongst the giants he felt even more likely to be overlooked, stepped on, ridiculed.

Loki found himself looking for nooks and crannies, the places that the giants probably didn't even know were there; anything from cracks in the icicled pillars to narrow window ledges that collected snowflakes like dust.

The floors were slick sheets of ice, and in his frozen leather boots he was forced to skating along it, pushing his feet forward in a V shape and practically racing to keep up with Laufey's long strides.

He was reminded of the times he would freeze the hallways in Asgard. He'd always found it so easy to navigate the frozen expanse, swirling around the hallways effortlessly while his brother tried to chase him and fell on his face. Laughing. The oaf. Thor got the hang of it though—he always did, when it came to physical activities.

At the thought of his brother, Loki closed his eyes and stopped skating, content to let Laufey just pull him along with no effort on his part.

There was a soft shifting behind one of the pillars, an escaped breath of anticipation as the two came closer.

A sudden dash of movement as something leaped out from behind it.

"BOO—AH!" Whatever it was bolted backwards away from Loki, ducking back behind the pillar.

Loki snapped open his red eyes, widening them as he jumped back, losing his balance and abruptly sitting down. He folded his knees into his chest as he regarded the Jotun peeking out from behind the stalagmites. The girl—judging by the dark dress he'd got a glimpse of and the feminine cut of her jawline—had black hair that tumbled unbrushed over her shoulders, and large, startled red eyes against her cerulean skin.

They stared at each other, neither blinking, before they both turned their gazes as one towards Laufey, narrowing accusingly.

"Who's that, Father?" They both asked (Loki saying the last word rather sarcastically).

It was all the King of Jotunheim could do not to shuffle his feet and clasp his hands behind his back. Instead he grinned.

"Helblindi, this is your elder brother Loki," Laufey said, nodding his head to the young giant sitting on the floor. "Loki, this is your younger sister Helblindi." A nod to the Jotun behind the pillar. "Or rather, half-brother and half-sister."

Laufey wasn't sure what he was expecting. Definitely the indignant "I have a _brother?!" _from his daughter. But by the furrowing of his brow and slight downturn of his lips, he was no expecting his son to start snickering. Not for Loki to try to push himself up to his knees only to double over as his snickers burgeoned into hysterical laughter that uprooted itself violently, but silently, from his lungs.

His body trembled like a bough that was inundated by altogether too much snow and threatened to snap off beneath the weight of all the accumulated snowflakes.

"...Are you... okay?" The voice was undoubtably young and pitched slightly upwards at the end of the question.

A blue hand smaller than his own appeared in front of him, wiping the frost from his cheeks gently, though the fingers had a roughness that suggested callouses from weapons training.

So they started as young here as they did in Asgard. No surprise there, really.

"Why are you crying?"

Loki's laughter subsided to a dry chuckle, sounding defeated even as it left his throat. "Am I?" he asked idly, his shaking ceased enough for him to sit back on his knees and meet her gaze.

He identified concern, confusion, and even traces of curiosity hiding at the corners of her eyes.

As he stood up and straightened his tunic, he was struck by the realization that he was a few inches taller than her.

Narrowing her red eyes at his outfit, she asked "That's Asgardian garb, isn't it? Why are you wearing that?"

Loki snorted. He turned his head to pin Laufey with the corner of his razored gaze.

"I think," he drawled, "That you have quite a bit of explaining to do."

There should be something satisfying in being able to make the King of Jotunheim squirm.

But Loki just felt tired.

* * *

"So," Loki hazarded, his eyes sweeping over his suite, that held tapestries against its icy walls and a bed that looked oddly comfortable. "Why did you keep me in the dungeons for the night, then?" It was just slightly bigger than his chambers had been in Asgard, and in a similar placement in the castle, on one of the top floors. (In fact the only problem with the location was that Thor's rooms were no longer just down the hallway...)

He smirked as Laufey actually fidgeted nervously. "I figured it would be better to let you be so you could adjust, if only slightly, and come to some sort of terms with what happened," Laufey admitted, "I..." he frowned, distorting the scar lines on his face. "I believed it to be a wise decision."

He shot a questioning, almost worried look at his son, who just turned away with a shrug of his thin shoulders, biting back a sarcastic remark he simply didn't feel the energy to put venom into.

Laufey certainly wasn't incapable of reading body language, and Loki's were pretty blatant that he wanted to be left alone.

"I'll have one of the servants bring up dinner," Laufey offered. He pursed his lips, before saying "You know, Queen Frigga—your mother—came last night to inquire about you. She's a frightening woman when she's angry."

A pause.

"She loves you very much."

He caught the stiffening of Loki's muscles before he turned to leave, and something in his heart leaped as he saw Helblindi cross over to her brother out of the corner of his eye.

After Laufey had left, Loki shook his head. "He's almost as bad as Thor," was his dry mutter.

"Oh yes," Helblindi nodded empathetically. "Father is quite tactless. Seriously, I mean" she deepened her voice and tried (only somewhat successfully) to make it resonate around the chamber as she stood up straighter and puffed out her chest. "'Surprise! Happy birthday! You each have a sibling I've never told either you about!'"

She returned back to her regular tone. "And you should have heard what he said this morning at the new landscape with all its new pretty glacial structures. Something about the returning of Jotunheim to glory," she shrugged. "He's a nice guy, once you get to know him though. He really is." A grin. "And he gives the best rides where he lets you sit on his shoulders as he runs around and almost bonks into stuff!"

She glanced idly out the window, and a small smile drifting across her lips. "The land is healed now, with the Casket returned," she murmured, almost in wonder. "It's sort of the heart of our world, did you know? That land was falling apart without it to pump life through the veins of ice." She shuddered, sitting down cross-legged on his bed. "There was this time when I was in the watchtower and watching this large gray scaly beast with a weird face chasing the snow lizards, but then the ground just _gave way _beneath its weight and it _fell through." _

Helblindi punctuated this by springing off the bed and crouching on the floor, her voice becoming low and sibilant as she met his gaze soberly. _"_There are chasms, you know, and they go all the way down into space. But _then, _as I was watching, there was like this shadow underneath the ice, and _boom!" _She popped back up, clear onto the bed and sending the pillow flying. "It came raced along the other side of the ground and came right back up to the top!" She grinned at him. "Because it take more than that to take a Jotun down!"

Encouraged by Loki's small smile, she went on "I want to ride one of those beasts someday. Wouldn't that be awesome? And just think: before the land started to crumble away, that creature probably didn't know how to run along the bottom of the ground." She tilted her head thoughtfully.

"What's it like in Asgard?" she suddenly blurted, as if she'd been itching to ask for a while.

Loki's face fell slightly, a gloom over his features, and she said hurriedly "I have so many things I want to show you here in Jotunheim! I've never had anyone I could share all my secret spots with before. Like there's this cave that you can travel to via polar bear—you've never ridden a polar bear before have you?!

"No," Loki answered.

Her expression was comically scandalized. "That can't be allowed! You must meet Snøfnugg!" She clutched a pillow to her flat chest, grinning as she said "He's the nicest, and Father lets me ride him. He's got this great nose and can sniff out anything anywhere. I run away sometimes just to see if he can find me. He always does, too."

Noticing that Loki seemed to be staring somewhere through the wall behind her, she reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him over to the bed so he was forced to sit down.

She poked him with the pillow. "Did you hear what I just said?" she accused.

"Yes—"

Loki was interrupted by a knock at the door, which Helblindi leaped to answer. "Dinner!" she cried.

A guard stood in the large door, and from what Loki gathered he was even taller than most Frost Giants, it seeming he would hit his head on the doorway unless he ducked.

"Hi Grolf!" Helblindi greeted brightly. She came perhaps up to his waist, but was not the least bit intimidated.

Grolf smiled. "Your grace," he said with an inclination of his head, that was covered in short choppy black hair. He indeed ducked to enter the room, but despite his height he had the lanky build of a boy yet to fully become a man, and moved as if he still wasn't sure quite where his limbs were.

He barely set the tray of food down without dropping it.

"This is Loki," Helblindi beamed, gesturing at him with the pillow she still held.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," Grolf said, his voice cracking slightly, at which he flushed.

Loki took the offered hand, eyes widening in surprise as eyes crackled around their fingers and he tried to jump back, before the ice shattered. He started at his hand, then up at Grolf, then back at his hand.

"Traditional Jotun greeting," the Jotun explained with a kind smile. "Takes a bit of getting used to, I must admit."

He glanced over his shoulder. "Er, I should probably be going," he admitted sheepishly. "You have no idea what it took to get this duty... I'm supposed to be guarding the great hall right now. But I had to give you this," he said, handing something to Helblindi, who squealed in delight.

"Oh thank you!" she said, bouncing up and down as she held the bird-shaped thing to her chest. "I thought I'd lost it!"

Grold nodded with a smile, before bowing and hurrying out the door as he heard a yell, wincing before sending them a wink as he left.

"He plays hide-and-seek with me sometimes," Helblindi said about Grolf, "When he has time." she crossed over to the dinner tray, examining what was there.

"What is it?" Loki asked curiously.

"Some oxen meat seasoned with some special salts, some sprouted seaweed salad from the lakes, some—"

"No, I meant what Grolf gave you."

"Oh, that!" Helblindi said, holding it out for him to see. It was a sculpture of ice that resembled a small crow, so finely chiseled that the feathers seemed almost to flutter in the breeze drifting in through the window. "It's enchanted, so that when you toss it up it flies in a circle and comes back," she explained, before pressing her lips together in a simper. "I kind of got it stuck on the roof."

"May I see it?" Loki asked diffidently.

She regarded him for a moment, a smirk growing on her lips. "Sure. But you have to eat the salad, because I don't like it."

"Agreed," Loki chuckled. "But... if I don't like the salad I'm dumping it out the window."

"You wouldn't!"

"Would too."

"It might land on one of the gaurds' heads!"

"All the better, then. Most of them looked they were missing some hair."

Helblindi laughed and threw her arms around Loki's midriff, causing him to almost drop the icy crow (Luckily it seemed to cling to his fingers with its feet.)

"You're funny, Brother."

Loki could only stand there, blinking, not quite sure how to identify the feeling rising unbidden in his chest like an unfolding tendril of fern.

* * *

Darkness slipped over the ice, gathering dangerously slick-looking puddles in the corners, suggesting that nightfall was like a waterfall and splashed over everything.

Peeking cautiously out his door, Loki glanced both ways before ducking out into the icy halls. He breathed in the frigid air and willed it to clear his mind of the crowded thoughts that writhed there.

The middle of the night and everything was black and silver with shadows and beams of moonlight that he carefully avoided, except to dip his toes in from time to time.

Despite the darkness, Loki found that he could see clearly enough.

He'd found that he could see far better in the dark than Thor and the others in Asgard, had almost prided himself in the fact since it meant they always included him on their nighttime escapades, and he actually got to lead for once.

It was eerie, the way that if he lifted a hand in front of his face, he could see the red glow from his eyes brushed translucently over his cerulean fingers.

He shivered, though not from the cold.

He found himself walking in the direction Thor's chambers had been in Asgard and quickly stopped himself, turning the other way and sprinting silently down the hall, finding purchase on the ice with his bare feet.

He descended the spiral staircase and wandered the floor until he came upon the Library. Slipping inside, he breathed in the familiar scent of leather and aged paper.

The Jotunheim Library was a collection of tomes from different realms, bound in all different kinds of animal skins with labels in all different languages, few of which Loki didn't already know how to read.

Loki's eyes scanned the spines as he walked through the giant room, which was probably twice as big as that in Asgard—except that a good third of the icy shelves were empty, and the spaces where books should be had an aura of mourning.

Even so, there was an eager spark in his chest as he gazed around at all those books just waiting to be read. He'd managed to make a foothold in the Asgard Library, having read more than he hadn't, but now here... where to start?

Loki found himself in the Jotunheim section, with its dark, nearly black leather bound tomes, deciding that it would be best to learn everything he could about his own race, especially since he'd be living here for the rest of his life.

He swallowed thickly at that thought, blinking back tears that froze and frosted his eyelashes.

Out of everything he missed however, the largest ache was distinctly Thor-shaped.

It felt like half of himself was missing—gone, emptied, void.

Thor.

Idiotic, thickheaded, amiable Thor.

Thor, who had said they would never be separated.

Loki buried himself in the book about ice magic, willing the Jotun script to burn itself into his eyes till he couldn't see the absence of that golden smile flicker in the edges of the darkness when he closed his eyes, willing himself to understand the concepts till he could slip between the crackling pages and become just as delicate, just as eternal.

Loki tapped his fingers on the floor where he was sitting, itching to try to manipulate the ice.

However he found that whenever he reached for his magic, there was an uproar in the natural chaos of Jotunheim around him, as it clawed at his skin as if trying to tear him open and crawl inside.

He shuddered and stopped, the chaos energy subsiding to ticklish licks.

Loki resigned himself to simply reading.

In the back of his mind, there was a part of him that was urging him to get as much reading done before daylight, for Thor always looked for him and held the book out of his reach until he agreed to accompany the oaf.

Another part of knew that that wasn't going to happen.

Thor would never be there to do that again.

Loki's breath hitched, and he shot to his feet, just barely keeping himself form throwing the book across the room.

It hit him like a rampaging bilgesnipe that he would never see Thor, or his mother, again.

Unless he was lucky, of course, and saw them at diplomatic meetings between the realms.

Or if he was unlucky, they would see each other on opposites sides of the battlefield.

Loki carefully placed the tome back where it belonged, before pulling a dagger from the leather belt that girded his waist.

The dagger looked relatively insignificant. The metal was of a dark silver color, the kind of metal that happened to be able to stand the freezing temperatures of Jotunheim without shattering. There was a small red ruby ingrained in the hilt, and though Thor had argued against it vehemently when he'd given it to Loki, Loki teased him that the gem was in the vague shape of a heart.

Loki ran his fingertips along the blade, watching as the blood trickled down, a deep, dark red such as to be nearly violet, so unlike the bright red he'd bled as an Aesir.

He licked the blood off his fingers, tasting the familiar tang of copper on his tongue.

At least that hadn't changed.

* * *

**And yes, Helblindi is in this story. And yes, Helblindi is a girl. Because I can ;P **

**(Really unsure about her and Laufey's personalities though, aaaahhhhh XD) **

**Please drop a review and let me know your thoughts! **


	6. Chapter 6

**Oops, I kind of switched from the past tense of the previous chapters to present tense in this chapter... I guess I'll try to stick with present tense from now on then XD It kind of worked better, what with all the memories being in past tense.**

* * *

Thor should have known he'd come out scarred after reading part of Loki's journal.

It was debatable whether he should have known he'd end up crying.

Some of the entries were in different languages, ones that Thor could neither read nor recognize, but the entries he could read...

Thor thought himself above such trifles as foolish fear, but after reading some recollections of Loki's nightmares, he was quaking.

Guilt twisted and writhed in Thor's stomach like a riled serpent.

"_Brother...?" _

_Thor blearily opened his eyes, glaring at the silhouette of his little brother who hugged his arms around himself as he hovered beside the bed, black hair scruffy and slick with sweat. _

"_Not _another _nightmare," Thor groaned, pushing himself up onto his elbows. "Can't I have a single night without you waking me up in the middle mewling about something ridiculous like the world ending?!" _

_If he saw Loki's body stiffen, he either didn't register it or didn't care. _

"_Aren't you too old to be debilitated by something as childish as nightmares?" _

"_I..." Loki started, voice quavering. _

"_Where's your silver tongue now?" Thor sneered. _

_Loki's body was rigid enough to make a stone statue seem supple, his arms falling from in front of his chest to ball into fists at his side, nails biting. Trickles of warm wetness ran over his fingers, but he was so cold he didn't feel it. _

"_It's getting pathetic," Thor snapped irritably, "how you keep being reduced to a sniveling mess and have to come to me each night. "You're an Odinson, are you not? How do you expect to stand up against our enemies and fight for Asgard if you can't even handle your own dreams?" _

_Wrapped in a darkness that blurred edges, it was hard to tell whether the dark figure of his brother was actually shaking, or whether it was simply a trick of the swimming shadows. _

_Yet when Loki spoke, his voice was steady and hard enough to hammer metal on. _

"_My apologies. I won't bother you again." _

_Thor didn't even wait to watch his brother leave his room before he collapsed back into his pillow, pulling the blankets closer around his shoulders as sleep dragged him down. _

_Loki might have been a liar, but he stayed true to his word. _

_He never went to Thor for comfort again. _

_And it wasn't long before Thor forgot about Loki's nightmares, and if Loki came to breakfast most days with dark circles beneath his eyes, it was excused as the effects of a long day of training, not because he woke up from a nightmare and either couldn't or wouldn't fall asleep again. _

_And if Loki put a sound-proofing spell on his room, it was because he was tired of being disturbed by his older brother banging around next door, not so nobody could hear his sobs. _

Thor throws himself into the lake.

With swift, powerful strokes, he swims straight across the length and sloshes out on the opposite bank, sitting himself on a boulder. Picking up small rocks from around them, he skips them across the water, counting.

Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen...

Picking up a larger rock he chucks it into the middle of the lake, where it splashes and sends droplets shimmering where they met sunlight.

He growls, getting up and stalking off into the trees, kicking at the fallen leaves.

"_All of your brooding is unbecoming." _

The voice in his head was his own, and it struck sardonically ironic, how often he'd told Loki the same thing.

_Throwing the door open, Thor burst into Loki's chambers with a shouted:"Come on, Brother!" as he strode over and punched his brother's bony shoulder. _

_Loki glared at him from over the binding of the leather tome he held in his lap. "How many times," he ground out, "have I told you never to interrupt me while I'm reading a book?" _

"_You've hiding up here for a week," Thor said as he made an extravagant gesture. _

"_I'm not hiding," Loki said coolly, turning his gaze back to his book. "I like it here." _

"_Brother, all of your brooding is unbecoming," Thor declared. He grabbed Loki's arm, hauling him unwillingly from his chair, as he said "Come, _do _something! What can you accomplish just sitting up here?" _

"_Plenty," Loki answered, jerking his arm out of Thor's grip and setting his tome deliberately down on his desk, as he shuffled away the papers collected there. "If you would stop bothering me," he hinted. _

_Thor paused, before asking "Brother, what did I do to upset you this time?" _

_Loki didn't answer. _

"_Whatever it was," Thor continued, walking closer to place a hand gently on his brother's shoulder. "I am truly sorry. _

"_But I cannot regain your good graces if you will not allow it of me. _

"_So please," he said, turning Loki to face him. "Come with me." _

_He could feel Loki scouring his face for any hints of insincerity. (And if there'd been any, he would have found them.)_

"_Fine," Loki conceded. "I _might _consider coming with you, depending on what you're up to." _

_Thor chuckled, pulling his brother into a one-armed hug. "Something you'll disapprove of, I'm sure." _

_But Loki came. He always came for Thor. _

* * *

After being sent away by Queen Frigga, Sif and the three boys practically ran until they were safely out of sight, strolling around the other side of the castle and through the gardens.

Fandral breaks the silence first. "What do you make of all this?" he asks, picking a small white flower and twirling the stem in his fingers, frowning thoughtfully. "I mean, with Loki apparently being a Frost Giant and now living in Jotunheim..."

"I don't believe it," Volstagg answers. He dusts off an apple that had fallen to the ground around the base of the tree they were standing under, inspecting it for bruises before taking a bite. "Or rather, I can't believe it," he adds, bits of apple flesh spraying from his mouth. "It's madness!"

There was an awkward pause as they waited for something that always came; only to realize that no, Loki wasn't with him hanging at the back, and that no, he wasn't going to berate Volstagg for talking with his mouth full.

"Thor's not lying," Sif says finally, scuffing the dirt path with her boot.

"But it doesn't make any sense!" Volstagg protests, waving his hand with the apple core. "They just got into a fight or something when they traveled to Jotunheim, and so Loki fed Thor a bunch of lies and ran away—like he always does—and he'll turn up in a few days—like he always does—laughing his head off at us for being so gullible." As he finishes saying this, he realizes he'd finished his apple, and reaches up to pluck another from the bowed branches.

Sif shakes her head, ponytail of dark hair oscillating. "I don't think so," she says. "It's different this time. It's..." she chews on her lip. "Thor's a mess."

"So what does this mean?" Fandral growls, kicking the trunk of the apple tree next to them.

Apples and leaves tumble to the ground, and Volstagg quickly gathers the fruit into his arms.

Hogun shifts his gaze from the ground near his feet to the rest of the group. "That Loki is a Frost Giant," he answers gruffly.

"But what does that_ mean?" _Fandral says again, voice nearly cracking, his expression flickering between denial and horror and bewilderment and a myriad of other emotions that are mirrored in the faces of his comrades.

"It means," Sif murmurs, as she fingers the hilt of her sword absentmindedly, "That this time, Loki's not coming back."

_Nobody knew a quite what it started with. _

_But Thor was somewhere else—and when he was somewhere else, there was teasing in the training arena. _

_Mostly focused on Loki. _

"_Come on, _Prince!_" one of the boys said, taking up his sword. "Let's see what you can do without those tricks of yours! Come one, show us!" _

"_Well, since you're asking so _nicely," _Loki drawled, "I think I'll have to pass." He leaned casually against the stone wall, legs stretched and crossed at the ankles, elbows propped up on the top as he let his chin tilt up slightly, seemingly unperturbed by the cries of "Coward!" that rang through the crowd of young gods. _

"_Fight me!" the boy said, walking over so that he stood directly in front of the prince. "Or be titled a craven!" _

_Loki wrinkled his brow in feigned confusion. "Is _that_ the way warriors the worlds over declare duels now? _

"_Does it matter?!" The boy snapped. "You're a weakling of a prince! You're a disgrace!" _

_Loki stared at him coolly, the slightest smirk twitching at his lips. _

"_You don't even deserve to be called an Odinson!" the boy continued, stepping closer so that he was breathing into Loki's face. "And you always rely on your older brother to _protect _you." He punched Loki in the face then. _

_Turning his face to regard the boy, Loki smirked jagged edges. _

"_Are you trying to make me angry?" he asked, voice whisper-soft. _

_The boy didn't answer, simply glared at Loki, trying to hold the unlinking green gaze. _

_He failed, eyes watering as he was forced to blink. _

_In that split instant, Loki's knee came up sharply, and as the boy doubled over and clutched his crotch Loki cracked him over the head with his elbow. _

_The boy crumpled to the ground, and Loki kicked him in the gut for good measure. "Because you succeeded," he snarled. _

_Just at that moment Thor returned, just in time to see his brother kick the boy, who was curled up and groaning. _

"_Loki, what did you do?!" Thor demanded. _

"_He provoked me," Loki shrugged indifferently, stepping away from the boy. "He asked for a fight, and I gave it to him." _

"_He cheated!" someone yelled angrily. _

"_Did you?" Thor interrogated. _

"_I didn't use a sword, if that's what you mean," Loki said lightly. "But I also didn't use magic." _

"_Liar!" the boy said, managing to stagger to his feet, eyes still watering as he tried not to break into tears of pain. "Loki's the one who attacked me!" and with that the boy lunged, only to fly straight through Loki's illusion and land facefirst in the dirt. _

_Thor sighed, shaking his head at the boy, before turning his attention back to his brother. "Loki," he berated, "You know it's unchivalrous to use tricks." _

_Something in Loki's green eyes snapped. "You want tricks?" he murmured. "I'll show you tricks." _

_A small hand gesture, and everybody in the arena was suddenly blasted backwards against the walls, knocking their heads or knocking out their breath, not a single one recovering in time to see Loki disappear. _

_He apparently took his horse and rode away from Asgard, not returning for several days, during which time Thor glowered and snapped at everyone. Heimdall either couldn't or wouldn't tell them anything._

_And when Loki reappeared, it was as if nothing had happened at all. As if he'd never left. _

_He was around a corner as they walked and slipped on a random sheet of ice on a flight of stairs, sending them tumbling to the bottom. He gave Thor a hand up, teasing him for being so unobservant. _

_Which was probably Loki's convoluted way of saying he forgave Thor or something. _

_And that had been it, and they'd had to deal with Loki's stupid pranks again. _

"Maybe it's better this way," Sif says, somewhat hesitantly. "He's a pain in the arse."

"That's what you say every time," Fandral reminds her, as he sits down, tearing at the grass. "And how long is it before everything seems rather dull?"

"And if it's for..." Volstagg pauses, swallowing a bite of apple as he creased his brow in the beginnings of horrific realization. "For forever..."

There is a pensive silence (except for Volstagg's chewing.)

Fandral breaks it when he grabs the apple out of Volstagg's hand and hurls it away.

"Hey!" Volstagg protests, glowering at him.

"We're all feeling sorry for ourselves," Fandral growls, beginning to pace. "And for Thor. But what about Loki?" he lowers his voice. "He's in _Jotunheim." _

There is a sound of sloshing footsteps, and they turn to see a dripping wet Thor come shuffling towards them, looking down at the ground in front of his feet.

"Thor," Sif says, hurrying over to him. She places a hand on his shoulder and he flinches, lifting his gaze to meet hers as if he hadn't realized she was there.

A frown pulls at her lips at this uncharacteristic behavior. "Thor, what happened—"

"Go ask Heimdall," he interrupts, jerking out of her grasp and sending them a weary glare before striding away with more purpose as if he just now remembered he had something he needed to do.

(Get away from them.)

* * *

Heimdall would have to be the most boring storyteller in all the Nine Realms. He said everything in a monotone, and used verbs likely to put a person to sleep.

He couldn't have been worse if he tried.

He could make a glorious battle sound as trite as the royal accountancy statements.

And his recollection of the events of the previous day were no different—a bland, emotionless, abbreviated summary, and when pressed for details he would merely glare at them, as if to say they were lucky he was telling them anything at all.

But at least now they knew the story was true.

They almost regretted asking.

The truth on the other hand was bitter and harsh as eating stinging nettle—you put in your mouth hoping for minty reconcilement, only to have your tongue stung. Even when you spit it out, the tingling needles remain, and you can't wash them away no matter how much honeyed denial you drink.

* * *

Passing by the library, Thor couldn't help but think how the walls upon walls of books and the cozy seats and little niches where Loki liked to read would succumb to dusty disuse.

Loki was the life of that room. It might as well have been his, for the amount of time he spent there and the scarce occasion anyone else did.

It was a huge, obvious room, walls lined with books from floor to ceiling, and expanse of the center was a maze of bookshelves.

Only the other day, Thor realizes, Loki had told him with a gleeful smile what percentage he'd read and how much more he had to read, apparently pleased with his progress.

And Thor had simply brushed it off as a trifling matter and asked Loki out to spar. He couldn't even remember where Loki had said he was in the sections, what the last book he'd read was.

The knot in his stomach coils tighter.

He steps over the threshold, only to jerk his foot back like he's been burned, staring down at his wet footprint.

Oh, Loki would _kill _him for—

The train of thought stops as he was once again reminded that no, Loki wouldn't. Because he wouldn't know. Because he couldn't...

Thor goes up to his chambers and changes into a dry outfit anyway.

Returning, he wanders through the shelves, fingers running along the leather spines, as he tries to remember where the atlases are kept.

Eventually he finds them, though not before his heart is about to make a break for it and scramble out of his chest, trying to get away from every place Loki wasn't.

He takes the tome out into the hallway.

His back pressed against the cold stones, Thor soits with the atlas open in his lap, running his finger over the depiction of Jotunheim's glacial terrain.

Jotunheim was an icy ring around Midgard—where other realms had beaches lapped by oceans, Jotunheim had beaches lapped by the dark waves of space.

The palace was easy enough to locate, and though he'd been unconscious for the majority of the way there, it wasn't hard to guess where they'd crossed from Midgard to Jotunheim.

Looking at the map though, Thor can't understand how this was supposed to help him when he got there; why Loki always insisted that he should know where he was going before he went somewhere. Standing somewhere in the flesh was a completely different perspective from staring at an aerial view of it from above, and trying to make the connection between the two was like trying to splice the views of an eagle and an ant.

Out of habit Thor makes sure to place the tome in its correct spot, before not-running-but-speed-walking out of the library.

He knows Odin is having him followed to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid, and they will surely get suspicious if he spent too much time with a book. They probably already are suspicious.

But the Allfather is a busy man; they won't bother him over anything trifling.

Nevertheless though Thor on-purpose-accidentally did such things as throw rocks in their direction when he'd been skipping them across the lake. He'd managed to hit one in the helmet, which had been slightly amusing, but they were getting on his nerves. So he takes a shortcut through the bustling kitchens, weaving his way through the throngs of cooks carrying spits of smoking meat and very hot pots of vegetables they had to wear mitts for and spices that if spilled would cause violent coughing fits.

When he reaches the other side and reenters the hallways, he takes off running, turning sharply down corridors until he figures he's likely lost them.

He estimates about an hour before they locate him again.

Or less, if they're intelligent and guess that he's going to visit Heimdall.

Or if they just look out a window toward the city and bifrost.

Mounting his horse Thor takes off at a gallop down the rainbow bridge, colors coruscating beneath thunderous hooves like miniature lightning strikes.

* * *

Reaching the golden dome of the Observatory, Thor leaps off his horse, leaving it with the four other steeds waiting outside.

He strides into the chamber and casts but a glance at Sif and the Warriors Three, who all wear expressions that suggests they'd just eaten something pungently bitter, before he pins his gaze to the gatekeeper.

Heimdall regards him coolly, gold eyes seeming to stare through him.

It wasn't the way Loki would stare through him though, Thor realizes, the memory of that green gaze burning straight through his eyes as if reading the thoughts that painted the inside of his mind, and made him feel like he was being turned inside-out, vulnerable. But Heimdall looks through him as if he was actually looking somewhere else, somewhere beyond him, as if he was hardly there.

"How is Loki?" Thor demands.

Heimdall's weary gaze seems finally to focus on his face. "Doing what he always does," the gatekeeper answers.

"Which is?" Thor snaps, mouth twisted in that grimace that graced his face whenever he's answered with a riddle.

He wants answers.

That gold gaze regards him for a moment, before Heimdall's deep voice rumbles a single word.

"Adapting."

Thor abruptly blanches, and he's barely able to stagger out of the Observatory before he falls to his hands and knees and vomits stomach acid over the edge of the rainbow bridge.

Even when the convulsing of his body stops he remains there panting, fingers curling over the edge as he stares into the depths of space.

_Loki considered him apathetically, managing to look disparaging even with two black eyes, blood still oozing from his lip and nose, bare torso and arms blue with bruises. _

"_Brother," he breathed, voice thick with horror. "Who did this to you?"_

"_I thought I told you not to enter," Loki remarked, turning back to the wash basin and resuming rinsing his face. _

"_Brother, tell me who did this to you, and I will smite—" _

"_I tripped and fell," Loki interrupted with a shrug, wiping his face with a towel as he straightened. "I'll adapt though," he said, giving Thor a smirk that far more resembled a grimace. "Your peers are a brutish bunch, but they won't catch me again. _

"_And next time," he added, grin all the more feral for the distortions of his injuries, "I won't be afraid to hurt them."_

"Thor," a gentle feminine voice coaxes, as Sif puts a hand on his shoulder and gently pulls him away from the edge and forces him to look at her.

Her dark eyes are sincere as she murmurs, "Thor, come on. It's dinner by now, and you need to eat something."

Something shudders in her chest as his dull eyes stare back at her.

"We need to get Loki back," he rasps, eyes clearing with conviction.

"Tomorrow," she tells him then, as he gets to his feet, and she puts her hands on his shoulders so he has to look at her again. "We'll figure out how to get Loki back tomorrow," she repeats, before beseeching, "But it's getting late, and it would be stupid to try anything now. And it's probably dinner by now, and you haven't eaten much, it seems."

There is a tense moment where Thor looks like he's going to argue, before finally he just nods grudgingly, and relief floods through Sif's veins as they mount their steeds and ride back towards the golden city of Asgard.

* * *

That night, Thor's dreams are dominated by memories of Loki.

_The sweat beaded __at Loki's temples and his brow, trickling and streaming down his ears, his neck, his cheeks, his nose, his lips; he could taste the salt. _

_Wiping his face with the back of his hand, he stared at the sunlight reflecting off the drops of perspiration. He flicked them to the ground, where they turned into spirals of steam on contact._

_His hair was wet and curled into his face and at the nape of his neck._

_The grass of Musphelheim was scorched, black and burnt; the sky was red and gold and orange._

_His tongue was dry and tasted of ash, his skin felt like it was on fire, and his lips were bloody and cracked._

_His footsteps were slow and heavy as lava, but neither he nor Thor nor the others could turn back._

_The sun was in everybody's eyes, glinting off their retinas; he was squinting but still could barely see, __and his eyelashes were smoking. _

"_Thor," he rasped dryly, quickening his pace enough to walk right behind his brother. "You know that Odin will figure out where we are and come for us. You know that, right?" _

_His words were for Thor alone; Sif and the Warriors Three were arguing amongst themselves, the boys complaining while Sif complained about them complaining. _

"_Then we will just have to complete our quest before he finds out," Thor declared. He was by far the best off out of all of them, stride never seeming to falter. And while the sweat made Loki look sickly and the others look exhausted, the sweat glistening on Thor's skin seemed to make him shine. _

"_Well, if that's your plan you planned it very ill," Loki bit out. "We're supposed to have lessons today, and when the teachers inform him that we haven't attended them, he will inquire to Heimdall about our whereabouts. _

"_And Heimdall will tell him. It's Heimdall's _duty _to tell the King where we are." _

_Thor snorted, unconcerned. "And what would have had us do?" _

"_Attempt this venture on a different day," Loki answered immediately. "Or else get Sif and the Warriors Three to enter the bifrost first and have Heimdall send them to a different realm—such as Vanaheim, which would be a perfectly acceptable place for us to be—while sending us to Musphelheim, so that when Odin comes and asks where _they _are Heimdall can tell him that "they're in Vanaheim" and simply neglect to mention that we're not with 'them'._

"_Heimdall rather enjoys our little ventures, and will help us, but he won't lie." _

_Loki spoke so softly, that even walking directly next to his brother Thor could barely make his voice out above the thunderous crackling of Musphelheim's flames. Heimdall probably couldn't even hear him. _

"_Your plots are needlessly complicated," Thor scoffed in return. "This will work out fine."_

_As it turned out however Loki was right (he was almost always right), and Odin did indeed come to retrieve them not that much later. And he was furious._

But Thor awakes with an exalted smile on his face.

* * *

**We're starting to get somewhere ;D Action should be coming soon, mwahahahah...  
**

**Anyways, I'd love to hear your thoughts!**


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